my future and my past have the same name
Title: My future and my past have the same name
Author:
felixfvlicis
Pairing: Draco / Harry
Rating: G
Word Count: 365
Disclaimer: Harry Potter character are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No profit is being made, and no copyright infringement is intended.
Notes: Unbetaed. Title comes from Stanaj's 'Ain't Love Strange'. Written for
hogwarts365's prompt 159:
“I used to advertise my loyalty and I don't believe there is a single person I loved that I didn't eventually betray.” ― Albert Camus, The Fall.
Summary: Draco returns to the Room of Requirement post-war to collect the one thing that still belongs to him. . . . Or two things.
Draco’s hands were shaking as he rounded the corner, coming face to face with the remnants of the Room of Requirement. His chest rose and fell once before he closed his eyes. His lids felt so heavy, as if they were his anchor to earth. His wish to see a vast nothingness behind his eyes was ignored as his vision was flooded with memories - three fiery silhouettes, Voldemort’s crescendoing scream, and ash - the smell of ash was so thick that it made Draco retch, clear bile thick with saliva coating his patent leather oxfords.
He brought a hand to his forehead as he coughed. He’d returned to collect the one item that belonged to him - the hawthorn molded itself perfectly in his grip, the magic reverberating in the wand’s body, coursing through its muscles, traveling the lifelines threaded beneath Draco’s palm, burying its essence in his veins.
The reunion would be euphoric.
Draco shuffled through the remains of the room, glancing this way and that, pupils flitting from one thing to the next. He couldn’t stay still for long - feared the memories would swallow him whole, hold his mind prisoner in that bloody vanishing cabinet, until he withered into the ash that coated his throat.
“It’s odd. I used to advertise my loyalty and I don’t believe there is a single person I loved that I didn’t eventually betray.”
The sound of Harry’s voice, calm, matter-of-fact, startled Draco. Must’ve used that invisibility cloak. Twit.
“What are you doing here, Har-Potter?” Draco hadn’t meant to stammer. He despised the inflection of surprise in his voice, he was weak.
“Honestly? I’m not really sure what I’m doing, anymore. Here, or otherwise,” his voice was raw from inhaling ash remnants, barely a whisper. Though the world abandoned the Boy-Who-Lived-Again, the seeker in him remained steadfast, whole. Draco didn’t even notice Harry was beside him until he touched, his thumb pad lighter than flying a broom, on Draco's wrist. He sighed, as if he was at war with the words wanting to roll off of his tongue.
"Draco." Harry mused, placing the hawthorn wand in Draco's palm, twining their fingers together before turning to leave.